Therapist Dan: “Is there anything else from your childhood you’d like to reference in our session today?”
Me: “Hmmm. I don’t know. I think we discussed just about everything.”
Therapist Dan: “Maybe something from elementary school or about your marriage?”
I was bullied plenty in elementary school especially in my special Ed. sixth grade math class. The bullies were Kevin and Patrick. Kevin reminded me of a Down syndrome bulldog with a lumpy clean-shaven head and Patrick reminded me of Little Miss America. I detested them with a rage because they always tormented me in class. When the schoolteacher wasn’t watching they’d toss pencils, erasers and spit wads at my cranium. They exhibited the goofiest faces when I turned around and told them to fuck their moms.” …show more content…
Vargas we didn’t do anything. We don’t know why he’d accuse us of something that bad. We actually like Reece’s Pieces. He’s actually pretty cool. Yeah!”
They made me appear cat shit crazy! It didn’t benefit me since they licked the teacher’s butthole until it was sore. I couldn’t do anything about the torment I received in my dumb ass math class except wear my helmet (It helped protect my dome from all the stones they hurled at me).
Therapist Dan: “Please stop referring to your math class as retarded. You’re not daft. You just had copious difficulties. Don’t be so tough on yourself. You’re not so dreadful.”
Me: “Thanks. I suppose you’re right.”
Where was I? Oh, so I did the one thing that made me feel better, drawing. One afternoon I let my frustration out on the bullies and drew their likeness on an orange/yellow mini envelope. I positioned Kevin in back of Patrick and made it look like he was scratching his back. It was meant to humiliate them by suggesting they were perhaps gay or in love, but nothing more. I drew them from the midriff up to their